Tell Me a Story
by Loonynamelass
Summary: ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY. And Edward does tell Bella a story. One of his past. One of adventure. And one that you can discover as Bella does. Rated T for safety, though if you have read the entirety of HP and Twilight, you can definitely handle this.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** A few things. First of all, the Twilight series was written by Stephanie Meyer. Second of all, the Harry Potter series was written by J. K. Rowling. Third of all, I do not like the Twilight series. Fourth of all, I love the Harry Potter series. And finally, if you have read any of my other stories, you'll know that I am crazy about canon. But this story is not exactly canon, because I'm switching around the dates a little so I can make the two series overlap just the way I want them to. Otherwise, everything else will be okay. Oh yeah, and also uncharacteristically of me, I don't care if Bella and Edward aren't exactly IC, because I haven't picked up a Twilight book since I read them two years ago and I'm not planning to now. Plus, Bella has only this one eensy-weensy part here, and Edward and Xenophilius Lovegood will be super young anyway, so it's not like they will be exactly the same as they were in their books. Okay, that's it. Yeah. Bye-bye. Enjoy!

**Prologue**:

Two shadowy figures loomed over a small, sleeping form in a crib.

One spoke. "We'll have to move her out _again_. Must she grow so fast?"

"Shh…" the second figure said softly, putting his finger to his lips as he watched his child with a tender expression. "We have enough money to get through a million cribs."

"She'll need them," Bella sighed, but looked at her husband's face rather than her daughter's hungrily as Edward touched his lips.

He noticed her gaze. "Now, Bella?"

"It's that or we have to go hunting again."

"Hm. I obviously haven't been a very good teacher if that's your only view of thirst."

"I'm not going to be a drug addict, if that's what you mean."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt you, and you'd have an eternity to get out of it, but that's not what I was talking about."

She sat on the bed, bouncing a few times for good measure, and waiting patiently for him to continue.

"The anesthetic qualities of storytelling," he quoted, with his perfect memory, honed and honed over a course of a few hundred years. "Diane Setterfield, debut masterpiece, the Thirteenth Tale." Bella would have rolled her eyes and urged him to hurry, but she decided to humor her husband. "Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Kate DiCamillo, in The Tale of Despereaux."

"Please, Edward," Bella growled. "Is there a point to this or are you just going to keep proving that you read too much?"

"Too much, love? Ay, there's the rub," sighed Edward, and at Bella's glare he grinned. "Fine, fine… Instead of sex, or blood, I will give you something just as good, something better. I will tell you a story. And you will love it. Not as much as you love me, but you will love it all the same. End of story."

"I'm not five, Edward, when all I needed were Charlie's bedtime tales of the Princess and the Pea."

"Shush! I'm about to blow you away with my amazing true story of me, a witch, a wizard, prejudice, and a bit of blood-"

"There are _wizards_?" Bella gasped, already hooked.

"Duh. Vampires, werewolves-that-are-actually-shape-shifters, and werewolves exist, so why not wizards? And giants, and centaurs, and acromantula, and the Loch-Ness Monster, and-"

"Shut up and start the story."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, as I was _saying_…"

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**A/N:** One, review. Two, as I'm juggling two stories at a time (as well as life), I'm not sure how fast my updates will be, sorry about that. Love you all!


	2. Monster

**Disclaimer: The disclaimer of the Prologue applies.

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Well, I was born –I mean, dead- on November 19, 1918. The Spanish Influenza had come in and I was caught with it. My mother was devastated, and the doctor, this great man from Washington, he was supposed to be the best, had told my mother there was no hope and asked if he could prepare the body, as it would be too harsh for her. She was so overcome by the idea of shutting my lifeless body in a box with her own hands that she acquiesced.

Then, Carlisle, for it was he, made me a vampire. You know the details; I won't bore you with them. So there I was, in Chicago, writhing in pain.

And then I awakened. I was aware of everything, everything, but nothing still. Carlyle had gone to comfort my mother, not anticipating that my recovery would be so quick (comparatively; it was a few hours).

She had been stumbling blindly through the streets, not even wearing a face-mask, as was recommended in those dangerous times. When it was clear to her that the disease, if contracted, would not kill her quickly enough, she had tried to kill herself with knives but then found her resolve insufficient. Finally, Carlisle found her and comforted her, and it was then that I recovered and then that I interrupted their conversation.

My senses were taking me into overdrive, you know? And I just, I couldn't think. I had just gone through a torture I could not understand, and my sense of identity was nonexistent. I was animal, through sense and thought and action, and _I wanted blood_.

I smelled it, I craved it, I wanted it beyond anything else –so I took it. I gorged myself on it; I sucked and sucked until there was only a paper doll in my arms, broken and warm from the blood that had run through just moments before.

My only consolation, even now, was that she had wanted to die… and that consolation is too small. Carlisle said she would've killed herself anyway, and that if not the influenza would have gotten her. He said that it was painless, this way.

Empty words…

The woman who would have given up everything for me did lose everything, at my own hands.

I was disgusted with myself. Utterly and inconsolably disgusted. My matted hair hung in front of my eyes, its color reminding me of her, unbearable. I ripped it out, reveling the pain, while running for all that I could (obviously, as a vampire, I was nothing more than a white blur to passersby).

Running. After my moment of realization, I became even more animal. I had murdered the only person that mattered… what could be worse?

What did any body that I devoured matter, compared to that first and worst act of cruelty?

For seven months, I ravaged not only Illinois but the surrounding states. Countless bodies, meaningless cruelties. The only similarity was that they were all sick. Their deaths could be passed off as influenza-caused. I didn't care what was happening at the time, but that was the only thing that kept me from being caught, and that kept the Volturi off of me.

Other than that, I had no boundaries. Kill, _kill_, KILL. Satisfying my thirst was the only thing I knew of that could take my mind off of what I was _doing_ to satisfy my thirst.

It was the only thing that distracted from me from the fact that I was a monster.

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**A/N: **Review, of course. I know the chapters are short for a fanfic, but think of it this way: Screens of computers are much wider than that of a book. They have no margins. Books due. Most books, in fact, are half-pages. So by the definition of a book, the chapters aren't _that_ bad. The shortness is really why I can update so fast. So don't complain.

Did I mention review?


	3. Failure of Pandora

**Disclaimer: **Refer to the Prologue.

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Those lust-filled days. That's what it was. That's what any addiction is. That's what being a vampire is, really. Lust. Desire. Fulfillment. Self-destruction.

Carlisle, in that way, has revolutionized that. He has taken the fulfillment away from being a vampire. He has removed our selfish suffering.

He tried to help me, by taking me in. This was before he had met and fallen in love with Esme. She helped him, I believe, deal with people, when she came along.

When his home had become mine, there was no need for him to tell me I was wrong, to kill people. By taking me away from the people, by saving them, he was giving me back my sanity. And my sanity's return came hand in hand with it's mistress, guilt.

I was shown by Carlisle how to eat animals to satisfy my thirst rather than humans. It worked… most of the time. But there were incidents, and at those points I couldn't stand the hopelessness. His disappointed, fallen face; he wouldn't say anything demeaning to me directly, of course, but I knew the thoughts that were running through his head: _I thought we were seeing improvement… What has gone wrong? ...Is it impossible, for some vampires, to give up human flesh?_

I would pick myself up again, attack some lions, stay away from the towns. They must have thought me an extreme introvert, a rumor which Carlisle did his best to encourage. But then... someone would come too close to the woods. And my nice, clean slate would be marred and dripping with blood.

And the cycle would start again.

After a year of this therapy that so broke my spirits, I left. It was so easy to run, for I had had so much practice before. I just ran, and ran, making random turns and twists, my eyes shut tight, trying to shut out the light. There was no need to stop for anything, not water, not trees. My speed enabled me to skim over the surface, and the heightened sense of being a vampire that you know so well kept me from crashing. Running, unfettered by anything but my own despair and the thoughts of the surrounding people as I whizzed by them, is how you must see me now.

And then I smashed to a stop. This was completely unexpected, seemed _impossible_, from all of my vampiric athletic experience. For one glowing moment, I thought this might be a delirious dream, and if I opened my eyes I would be a normal human again, sick with Spanish influenza, my poor ill mother still watching over me.

I opened my eyes. It wasn't my mother's characteristic bronze hair, nor her thin, haggard face with her loving eyes that showed so startlingly despite their purple circles, nor was it even her fresh scent that she retained even in illness.

No, looming in front of me instead was a pair of curious, dark eyes and a lock of thick, curly golden hair wound around a thick rod of ash. A set of neat white teeth glistened in my own light as this stranger beamed at me, noticing my consciousness. The teeth parted, and the floating features were transformed, connected, in that moment of movement.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!"

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**A/N:** I know, the chapters are still terribly short, but they just seemed to find their natural break, you know what I mean? Of course you do. (and regardless whether you do or don't, reviewing is a good idea.)


	4. Consolation

**Disclaimer is at the front of the story. If you haven't read the first chapter, then why on earth are you reading this one?**

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Her face disappeared from immediate view, and I leapt to my feet warily. Warily, for I could not sense her thoughts at all; it was as if her consciousness was nonexistent. "Calm down," said the girl, about fifteen years old she was, brandishing that ridiculous piece of wood at me, her eyes watching me still with that curious, calculating expression. "Steady, boy."

I spoke with a bit of righteous anger, though my confusion was still high. "I'm no pack animal. Who… What is the meaning of this?"

"Oughtn't I to be asking you, as _you_ were the one who came tearing through here without a care in the world? You're lucky I caught you, really."

"Is that so?"

"You ought to know better than to barge right in here. Hogwarts is one of the best fortified places in Britain. Nothing can penetrate these walls without the permission of Professor Dippet." She peered at me more closely, catching my confusion with those unbearably shrewd eyes. "But you didn't know that?"

"If you mean I don't know what the hell you're talking about, then yes, I suppose I don't," I said defiantly. There was something about this calm individual that made my blood boil –an expression, darling, that never gets old, despite its obvious inaccuracy to our current state.

She immediately assumed an expression of greatest surprise. Those inquisitive eyes became more feverish as the endless possibilities of this discovery raced through her mind. "Are you a –a _muggle_ vampire?"

"What _are_ you talking about?" I demanded, sniffing and noticing, for the first time, that nice scent she had about her. The blood was like nothing I had ever known, and I felt curious, wanting to try it despite that my thirst was very low. Her manner, that irritated me so, did not aid in my attempt at resistance.

"Oh, silly me, you wouldn't know if you were muggle, which you obviously are… The latest authorities on vampires, how few there are, seemed absolutely positive that vampires were neither muggle nor wizard, just animal… This leads to so many implications that will simply startle wizardkind…" she muttered on, running her hands through her hair nervously. "Well, then," she announced to me. "Um… you _are_ a vampire?"

"Duh," I said, although my sentiments were far from that. If she knew already about vampires, she must have noticed my sparkling by now.

"The skin _would_ implicate that," she said to herself, before I most rudely interrupted her.

"Can you PLEASE STOP talking about me in third-person?" I exclaimed, exasperated beyond belief though glad to have finally located this source of annoyance.

"Oh, do forgive me, it's just that I'm terribly unprepared for such a discovery! To think I was just contemplating what to do for the summer holidays, and now…!" I growled at her, and she hastened to address me. "I understand now that of course you are perfectly sentient, if not more, sir (you are a sir, aren't you?). It's just that the wizarding- Oh you won't know. Um, well, there are witches and wizards and vampires and mug- well, 'normal' people, as I suppose you consider them, and then many many other creatures… Does that help?"

I nodded, beckoning for her to continue and relaxing from my aggressive stance. I had been positioned like a cobra, ready to strike- no wonder she had become so flustered.

"Well, okay, as I was saying, the wizarding opinion of vampires is very vague, but I have read up on all the up-to-date vampire experts and they have all described vampires, as, well, animal. As you obviously aren't. And then there's the rubbish that outlines basic safety that even babies know, like 'stay away from venom' and 'don't expose your neck,' etc. etc. So, in a nutshell, you, in your existence, are proving that everything wizards have ever known or assumed about your kind is absolutely, irretrievably inaccurate!"

Slightly dazed but comprehending, once again I nodded complacently, but this time added, "But I am an animal. I kill people. It's awful. I try so hard to stay vegetarian and Carlisle is so good to me and I just kill them. I smell them and their blood beckons to me, I know they'll taste _so good_ and they do, not as beguiling as your scent is now, but that's beside the point. I'm an animal. A monster. Etcetera, all that comes with it."

The girl just studied my form, though her stick was out again, probably from that 'blood scent' comment, and after much thought she came up with this reasoned response, "However monstrous you may feel to be, your awareness is nothing less than that of a human."

And until I met you, Bella, those words were the sole comfort to my soul.

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**A/N:** Okay, guys, I have absolutely no idea if you love it, hate it, etc. Am I going in the worst direction ever? Do you approve? Do you want my OC/person vaguely mentioned in HP to fall into the ocean?

By the way, don't worry about two things (if you were worried at all): (1) the main romance is not between Edward and this new character, and (2) Give him time, Xenophilius will come.

As I mentioned before, and you will remember unless you have short-term memory loss like Dory (just keep swimming!), please review this chapter. Or PM. Or anything.

P.S.: Didja notice how much longer this chapter is? :D


	5. A Place to Stay

**Disclaimer: "Is it hard understanding" that I, for one, do not own Twilight? And would not want to? That "I am not afraid" to admit that? "Nothing you can say" or that I can say will change that lovely fact.**

**On that same note, "with words I thought" should be obvious, I cannot credit the world of Harry Potter to my name. "These bright lights" shine on J. K. Rowling and not I, alas. **

**"I see you lying next to me," or rather, sitting or standing up, next to or in front of this screen, so I'd much be obliged if you, "awake and unafraid, asleep, or dead," continue reading, and enjoy!**

**Also, I brought Bella (ew) back, because I felt that I could not simply dash her out against the rocks forever, as much as I'd like to.  
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"Aw," crooned Bella as she snuggled deeper into Edward's armpit (which smelled quite nice, thank you very much).

Edward broke off of his narrative. "You certainly seem more kind to her than you were before," he chuckled, "As I recall you were growling like a lioness when I first began."

"Rawr. But shouldn't you get on with the story?"

"Really, Bella, you're a woman who'll never let a man rest," and he cleared his throat, half-smiling at his own joke, "On with it, then."

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Hogwarts was out of session, but Katherine, for that was her name, deftly handled her stick and managed to catch Professor Dippet before he escaped to Congo, or wherever wizards go for holiday.

"Headmaster," she chirped, facing him alone. Our favorite character was currently growling at the two gargoyle guards in front of the office.

"Miss Harker?" he inquired, his eyes fluttering as though he wanted a nap. "Why aren't you on the Express home? Do you need another method of transport?"

She wrung her hands nervously. "No, no, that won't be necessary… I need to contact my parents… Tell them I won't be home for the summer…"

"Of course, of course," the old man peered at her in a daze. "But where will you stay in the meantime?"

She smiled, and the answer came easily. "Here."

As I was situated so far away and did not extract the details of the conversation, I can only imagine the shock, outrage, disappointment, confusion, or sleepiness that his face would have betrayed. However, the consent was given, and we were both going to stay in a vacant castle for three months.

Those three months passed in the same daze that the aging Headmaster was perpetually trapped in. Only a few important details remained: Katherine learned to consider me a person, was not converted, and let me loose in a dangerous forest for food. (No, Bella, nothing romantic occurred in your absence)

It seemed like life would pass seamlessly. I became accustomed to her alluring scent, and soon discovered that it was not her blood but her magic. As for her blood, or her mind, my senses would not reach it and I was a happier vampire for it.

Of course, there's no such notion as seamlessness in this life…

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I noticed him immediately.

Of the crowd, somehow, he stood out. Unassumingly, modestly clothed, and dark head bowed so I could not view the malicious features that there adjacent lie. A low growl rose in my throat, but I suppressed it; Katherine had told me quite emphatically that if I attacked anyone, I was gone. Not just 'out of this castle' gone, but 'old man Dippet will rip me to pieces and burn me' gone. I turned to the front, ignoring this strangely menacing 17-year old. Dressed in a bumblebee-colored scarf, I stood at the front of the line, tiny eleven-year-olds milling nervously behind me, the black pile of cloth musically bellowing a song about virtues and houses.

It was a while until my name was called...

"Malfoy, Lucius!" "SLYTHERIN!"

"Mason, Edward!" Dark and damp, the hat was. "You are not a wizard..." it began uncertainly, "... I see you are impatient... Your nature is not quite so, but at least you will be safe in SLYTHERIN!"

Of course, in my case, that did not assign me classes, just bed and food. The hauntingly beautiful decorations gleamed in the torchlight as I lay awake, listening to the snores and dreams of the children who lay beside me. Oh, I could just quickly snatch a snack, no one would hear, it would be quick and painless; but no, unless I had a death wish, I needed restraint.

From the very beginning, everything would be different; they would be learn from others, Katherine would learn from me; they would dine in the Great Hall and snooze in their beds, I would sit at empty plates and lay in my bed; they would be a friend to others, I would be a test subject or a danger instead.

Despite all of these undeniable differences, I never could have expected how separate my life would be on that first night at Hogwarts.


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